"Would…would this not mean that the emperor is in his seven and tens" Viserys voiced, his tone hushed with disbelief.
Father offered a very grim smile at my son's comment. "That is the very fact that terrifies me most about the man. The letters I have read, coupled with the recent descriptions from our most trusted informants, lead me to believe that although the Emperor must be nearing his eightieth name day, he looks as if he were barely a day older than you, Baelon."
"Are you saying he is immortal, Father? Surely that is a jest," I answered incredulously. "Even at the height of Old Valyria, the most powerful fire mages rarely lived past a hundred, and even then, they were withered old husks by the end."
"We thought the same. But the reports from hundreds of spies and courtiers do not lie. The people of the Empire refer to him by his regnal name—Aeternus. Do you know what it means?" Father asked. I shook my head. "It means 'The Eternal One' in the Imperial tongue. He is not being dismissive or subversive about his power. More importantly, while your mother and I were held captive upon Dragonstone as youths, we saw how erratic, frail, and bony Queen Visenya had become. One day, however, she emerged from her chambers as if reborn. Her visage had miraculously returned to her prime. Though her hair remained white, the terrifying fire in her eyes had been completely restored."
"Thank the Seven it was not meant to last," Mother spoke, a shiver running through her frail frame. "For whatever dark magic had restored her youth was also the source of her sudden undoing. Within moons, Visenya rapidly deteriorated to her previous, haggard self. Soon after, she was found dead, allowing your father and me to escape Dragonstone. So yes, the Emperor is a man to be deeply feared, Baelon... Viserys. He possesses means entirely beyond our mortal understanding."
"Grandmother... you think the Emperor killed Queen Visenya?" Viserys asked, his eyes wide.
"Visenya's death may have been declared natural by the maesters, but we witnessed things upon Dragonstone during that time," Mother said grimly. "Phenomena that defy all common sense. We firmly believe the Emperor's hands were involved in those happenings, even if he was not physically present."
"In the years since, we have unearthed many of the old Valyrian tools used for such rituals," Father concluded, walking back toward his heavy oak desk. "The glass candles housed deep within the vaults of Dragonstone, along with several journals and tomes from Old Valyria that speak of the higher mysteries. We have studied them, but no one in our immediate family has showcased any inclination or proficiency for these arts, which is why we were forced to abandon our pursuit. But the tools remain. They will always be there, waiting for a Targaryen to wield them when the time and the bloodline are right."
"What are we to do then? We need to save Daemon," Viserys said, his voice tinged with deep helplessness.
"All is not lost, dear boy," Mother explained, reaching out to firmly grasp Viserys's hand. "Even if the Emperor is a dangerous man, he has done nothing to harm us in over five decades. It is only now that a Targaryen has trespassed within his domain that he has taken action. Even then, he has been courteous in expressing his demands when he needed to make none. He could have simply killed Daemon and been done with whatever dark work he desired, without us catching wind of it at all. This solves a decades old mystery for us. We can now conclude that the Emperor may have had an accord with Visenya not to harm her kin."
"We need to give him what he wants in order to secure Daemon and Caraxes," Father concluded, his pale purple eyes hardening. "Baelon, you will travel with Vaegon to the Imperium. Be deeply mindful. He demands blood, and I believe a measure from Vaegon and yourself should suffice, coupled with whatever he has already taken from Daemon. Furthermore, even if he has reined in Caraxes, it will be far harder for him to face Vhagar. She is the largest living dragon since Balerion passed, and our studies of the Valyrian tomes indicate that dragons are highly perceptive to esoteric magic. Vhagar will protect you from any magical influence, so long as she remains near."
"I will bring him home," I vowed. "And I will take the full measure of this Emperor and his brood."
Flashback End
The freezing wind whipping across my face tore the memory from my mind, grounding me firmly back in the present.
Beneath me, the immense, heat-radiating bulk of Vhagar cut through the clouds above the Essosi heartland. Her bronze and greenish-blue scales gleamed in the afternoon sun, her colossal wings beating with a rhythmic, thunderous thrum that vibrated deep within my chest.
"How much longer, Baelon?" a strained voice shouted over the rushing gale.
I glanced back over my shoulder. Seated securely behind me in the heavy riding saddle was my brother, Vaegon. The newly elevated Archmaester looked entirely out of his element, his knuckles white as he gripped the thick leather straps. He had never possessed the fire for dragon-riding, preferring the quiet solitude of the Citadel and his tomes, yet his deep understanding of Valyrian lore and bloodlines made his presence on this diplomatic rescue strictly necessary.
"We should be just over the horizon, brother!" I called back, adjusting my grip on the heavy iron chains. "Brace yourself!"
I spurred Vhagar forward, guiding the great bronze beast upward to crest the heavy bank of clouds.
As we breached the summit of the skyline, Vhagar let out a sudden, deafening roar. The primordial sound shattered the quiet sky, rippling across the landscape below to announce the arrival of the largest living dragon in the known world.
When my eyes adjusted to the clearing mist, my breath caught in my throat.
Emerging from the vast, sprawling plains was Ctesiphon.
It was a magnificent, flawless marvel of engineering. The capital was built in perfect, sprawling concentric circles of gleaming white marble and rich terracotta, heavily contrasting the cramped, chaotic sprawl of King's Landing. Grand, elevated aqueducts fed crystal-clear water into massive, tiered districts, while pristine, wide avenues radiated outward from the centre like the spokes of a giant wheel.
Yet, it was the very centre of the capital that completely mesmerised us.
Looming over the sprawling city was the Imperial Palace. It was a colossal fortress of white stone and gilded archways, but its crowning feature defied all natural laws. Atop the highest central structure sat an immense, towering dome.
A blinding, ethereal golden light danced continuously upon the dome's surface, weaving in and out of the marble like liquid fire. Deep within that golden hue, violent arcs of piercing green lightning surged and crackled, illuminating the sky above the city with a heavy, suffocating aura of raw power.
It was a beautiful, terrifying beacon.
Vaegon stared in silent, awe-struck horror from behind me. I tightened my grip on the reins, my jaw setting into a hard line. Father's warnings echoed loudly in my ears. We were not flying into a mortal kingdom; we were descending directly into the domain of an immortal.
Vhagar let out a near earthshaking roar ending in a whine. It surprised me but I could feel her agitation at approaching the dome.